CHAPTER 5 #3
“You had three years to fix it.”
“I know.”
I tightened my grip.
His hips jerked forward.
“Then stop talking.”
He pulled my underwear aside.
The first push of him inside me made us both go still.
Pain stretched through me, followed quickly by the deep, overwhelming fullness I remembered too well.
Lars’s forehead pressed to mine.
His breathing shook.
“Tell me if—”
“Move.”
He did.
Slowly at first.
Then harder when I wrapped my legs around his waist and dragged him closer.
The table struck the wall with every thrust.
My nails dug into his shoulders.
He kissed me between broken breaths, one hand gripping my hip, the other braced beside my head.
It was not gentle.
It was not careful.
It was three years of silence forced into motion.
“You left me,” he said against my mouth.
“You let me.”
“I hated you.”
“Liar.”
His hips drove deeper.
I cried out.
“I hated loving you,” he corrected.
The words tore through me.
My body tightened around him.
His control fractured.
He fucked me harder, eyes fixed on mine as if he needed to watch me choose him through every second of it.
Pleasure built brutally fast.
I tried to turn my face away.
His hand caught my jaw.
“No.”
“Lars—”
“Look at me.”
I did.
That was what broke me.
Not the pressure of his body.
Not his fingers finding the place between us.
His eyes.
The naked devotion inside them.
I came with his name in my mouth.
He followed moments later, holding me so tightly it almost hurt.
For a long time, neither of us moved.
My cheek rested against his shoulder.
His heart thundered.
The laptop glowed beside us.
A file remained open on the screen.
HALVORSEN, LARS — MEDICAL RETIREMENT RECOMMENDED.
Reality returned all at once.
I lowered my legs.
Lars helped me stand.
Neither of us spoke while we dressed.
Matteo reappeared from the hallway wearing both socks and carrying three bottles of water.
He looked at the overturned papers.
Then at us.
“I heard nothing.”
“You live in a loft,” I said. “There are no doors.”
“I heard less than nothing.”
Lars took one of the bottles.
Matteo’s expression sobered.
“Derek is stable. Naomi texted.”
Relief loosened something in my chest.
“He will testify?” I asked.
“If he survives the night.”
I looked at the files.
“We need copies stored somewhere Graham cannot reach.”
“I have contacts,” Matteo said. “Lawyers outside the league. Players’ association people.”
“Can they be trusted?”
He gave a humorless smile.
“No one can be trusted. But some people can be frightened into doing the right thing.”
Lars stepped beside me.
“Do not publish yet.”
I looked at him.
“We have enough.”
“We have files. We need a chain of custody, witnesses, and Derek alive.”
“He told me to publish.”
“He was drugged.”
“He knew what was happening.”
“If you publish now, Graham will claim the records were stolen and altered.”
“He will say that regardless.”
“Aaliyah.”
I zipped the drive into my bag.
“I won’t publish tonight.”
His shoulders loosened.
“But I am not promising anything beyond that.”
His expression hardened again.
“I need time.”
“You had two years.”
“I need forty-eight hours.”
“For what?”
“To get the rest.”
“What rest?”
He looked toward Matteo.
Matteo looked away.
Anger returned instantly.
“There’s still something you haven’t told me.”
Lars said nothing.
I laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
“Aaliyah.”
“No. We just did exactly what we always do. We tore each other open, used sex to make it feel like honesty, and now you’re right back to deciding what I’m allowed to know.”
“That is not what happened.”
“It is exactly what happened.”
His face tightened.
I took my bag.
“Where are you going?”
“To the hospital.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“You are not going alone.”
I faced him.
“You asked me to trust you while standing beside a locked door.”
His eyes darkened.
“I am trying to keep you safe.”
“And I am telling you that is no longer enough.”
I walked toward the elevator.
He followed.
Before either of us reached it, Matteo’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed within seconds.
“What?” Lars demanded.
Matteo lowered the phone.
“That was the hospital.”
My chest went cold.
“Derek?”
“He’s alive.”
“Then what?”
Matteo looked at Lars.
“Someone tried to enter his room using Norsemen medical credentials.”
The room fell silent.
“Who?” I asked.
“They left before security stopped them.”
Lars’s face hardened into something I recognized.
The Ice Wolf.
But this time, I understood what lived beneath it.
Not cruelty.
Fear sharpened into violence.
He looked at Matteo.
“Call every player who gave us evidence. Tell them to leave their homes.”
Then he looked at me.
“Graham knows we found the drive.”
My phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number appeared.
You should have stayed a secret.
A photograph loaded beneath it.
It showed Lars and me inside Matteo’s apartment.
Taken through the window.
Minutes earlier.
My blouse was open.
His hands were on my thighs.
The image did not merely expose where we were.
It proved someone had been watching us the entire time.
Lars took the phone from me.
His expression emptied.
Then the lights went out.